Cold Front Arrival

Nobody announced her. Didn't have to.

Door opened.

Room changed.

Bartender stopped pouring Halfway through the glass,

Somebody lost the punchline To a joke that would've passed.

Guy by the window Turned without knowing why,

And every conversation Dropped about half a mile.

She didn't scan the room.

Didn't need to be seen.

Just walked through the doorway— And changed the whole damn scene.

No thunder.

No rain.

Still something changed.

She walked in

with the weather.

She walked in with the weather,

Temperature fell two degrees,

Curtains moved without a window,

Everybody felt the breeze.

Didn't ask for attention.

Didn't have to whatsoever.

The room had one climate— Then she walked in

with the weather.

Ice melted slower In a glass nobody touched,

Bartender missed an order,

Then pretended it was nothing much.

Woman in the corner smiled Like she'd seen this shit before,

Three men suddenly remembered How to stand when she crossed the floor.

She took one empty chair,

Crossed one leg. Said nothing.

Whole room started talking

Without saying a word.

She walked in with the weather,

Pressure changed inside the room,

Piano found another key,

Saxophone forgot the tune.

Nobody knew what happened.

Everybody knew it together.

One second it was Saturday night— Next second:

weather.

Some people enter rooms.

Some people arrive.

Some bring

conversation.

Some change

the fucking tide. No

introduction.

No performance.

No effort whatsoever. She just opened up the door— AND WALKED IN

WITH THE WEATHER.

Then she looked over.

Not at everybody.

At me.

Well...

shit.

SHE WALKED IN WITH THE WEATHER!

Piano running wild! Violins climbing higher!

Sax cutting through the middle While the whole damn room caught fire!

Nobody touched the thermostat!

Nobody opened anything! But suddenly the air itself FELT LIKE IT HAD

SEEN HER WALK IN.

Then she walked back out.

Room went back to normal.

Almost.